


Art on Water

by Tabithacraft



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Surfer Clarke, Surfer Lexa, surf competition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithacraft/pseuds/Tabithacraft
Summary: Lexa is surfing and Clarke is watching and wanting her.





	Art on Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [srfann](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=srfann).



> I was feeling light and fluff yesterday and Deserted is not particularly light and fluffy. I asked for prompts on tumblr and from @srfann got "surfer Clexa! or Clexa on the coast." I could work with that:) Thanks!
> 
> I hope you enjoy - it's just a mini ficlet.

There was sand everywhere, quite literally everywhere, and there were places that Clarke didn’t want sand. Her skin almost prickled, despite the copious amounts of sunscreen, as the sun beat on relentless in its heat even as it sunk lower in the sky.

 

“What’s up with Clarke?” Octavia asked sinking gracefully onto a sun lounger, looking tanned and gorgeous, fresh from a shower and ready for dinner and drinks.

 

Raven snorted her response as she threw a handful of sand at Clarke’s back, “she’s in love.”

 

“With the beach? So what?” Octavia frowned. “Why are you two not ready? I thought we were all going to go get ready? That’s what you text? It wasn’t like I wasn’t having fun in Lincolns bed – I could have stayed longer.”

 

“We were about to leave but then she showed up,” Raven pointed at the water, at the epic waves and the surfer riding them with more skill than even Clarke had.

 

“Who is that?”

 

“My next girlfriend,” Clarke sighed dreamily before casting a look of utter contempt at the sand filled cast on her ankle.

 

“Huh,” Octavia nodded thoughtfully staring at the tall, dark haired goddess who had paused in her efforts and was sitting on her board casually soaking up the sun.

 

“Clarkie here is waiting for her to get out of the water because she can’t go in and get her,” Raven explained helpfully. “I’m waiting for her much less talented, but equally gorgeous friend,” she nodded to another woman who’d managed to reach her friend who was laughing, and clearly handing out tips.

 

“Either of you two bozo’s consider the fact that perhaps they’re on a date together? That hot girl one is teaching hot girl two to surf in an attempt to woo?”

 

“Nope,” Clarke shook her head with confidence, and ungracefully got to her feet, bending to reach her crutches, and staring irritably at her foot. Once she was balanced she fluffed her hair, adjusted her bikini top ensuring her cleavage was good, shook the sand from her shorts and dragged her eyes from the beautiful, talented girl and looked at her friends.

 

“How do I look?”

 

“Hot,” Raven answered and Clarke smiled before her friend continued, “because you’ve been out roasting in the sun all day…”

 

“Seriously?” Clarke’s face and confidence fell.

 

“You’re a babe, ignore Rae,” Octavia reassured. “I mean your hair is a little messy, and you’ve…uh, caught the sun…”

 

“I’m burnt?” Clarke was outraged. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she turned to Raven with a glare.

 

“Hottie watching the same as you,” Raven shrugged.

 

“Fuck,” Clarke stomped one of her crutches into the sand. “I have to speak to her. Seriously, I cannot leave this beach and then perhaps never see her again.”

 

“She might be a jerk,” Octavia pointed out.

 

“I’m a jerk and we still like me,” Clarke huffed.

 

“Well, most of the time,” Raven grinned.

 

“See, _she’s_ a jerk and we still like her,” Clarke prodded Raven’s foot with her crutch.

 

“Fine, okay, so she’s out of the water – go chat her up so we can go get drinks and food.”

 

“On it,” Clarke swallowed down her nerves and tried to pretend that she looked as fresh as Octavia, as she hopped her way efficiently across the beach, and positioned herself in front of the deity scrubbing wax on an epic surfboard, feeling her mouth go dry, and everything else get wet at the sight of black tattoos on smooth, tanned skin. “Hi,” her voice came out in a low timbre and the girl looked up, bright green eyes taking her in, clearly appraising.

 

“Hi,” she smiled and then returned to waxing her board.

 

“You here for the competition?”

 

“Yeah. You here to watch?” the girl stopped waxing her board and looked at Clarke, tapping one of the crutches with a long, nail-filed finger.

 

“This time,” Clarke shrugged.

 

“You do that surfing?”

 

“Kinda,” Clarke flushed.

 

“Then I’d have beaten you,” the girl gave her a wink.

 

“Those are fighting words,” Clarke relaxed because flirting was something she could do, even with a broken ankle, sunburn, and sandy hair.

 

“Surfing is my life.”

 

“Hmmm, hot surfer girls with tatts are mine,” Clarke responded with a smirk, and watched red tinge beautiful cheeks.

 

“That’s a bad line,” the girl mumbled.

 

“Well it was unrehearsed, unlike my surfing.”

 

“Writing checks your body can’t cash, huh?”

 

“A _Top_ _Gun_ line?” Clarke laughed out loud. “You're my dream woman.”

 

“I’m Lexa,” the girl nudged her hand against Clarkes, and Clarke thought she might die because her body swooped with a swarm of horny butterflies.

 

“Clarke,” she tried to nudge Lexa’s hand back in the same sexy way, but she dropped her crutch and it flopped in the sand rather pathetically.

 

“Smooth,” Lexa teased.

 

“I try,” Clarke reached out a second time, and nudged Lexa’s fingers, thrilling at the way they tracked over hers.

 

“Will you be watching on the weekend?” the girl gave her a look -  _the_ look.

 

“My friends are competing.”

 

“And you want to watch me thrash them?” Lexa asked, with a gorgeous cheeky grin.

 

“I just want to watch you. Not sure I care about who you thrash.”

 

“You’ll care when you see me surf,” Lexa promised.

 

“I’m pretty fond of you post surf, you know,” Clarke allowed her eyes to rake over Lexa’s abs, and couldn’t help but lick her lips as she imagined how they’d feel under her tongue.

 

“You really show your emotions, you know?” Lexa’s cheeks were tinged red yet again.

“You mean you can tell how insanely attracted to you I am?” Clarke asked, trying to look casual as she leaned on her one crutch.

 

“You want to go for a drink?” Lexa responded, and then leaned in and whispered against Clarke’s ear, “can you tell that I’m feeling some pretty strong attraction for you?”

 

“Hmmm,” Clarke shifted her head, feeling the pheromones zing between them as their faces hovered close together. “ _Fuck,”_ she breathed in Lexa’s minty breath, felt its warmth on her cheek, against her lips. “I want to surf,” she admitted to break the tension and then cursed herself for not breaking it by surging forward and kissing the girl.

 

“Hmmm,” Lexa stood back, arms crossed under perfect bikini clad boobs, eyes staring at her plaster cast covered foot and leg. “Whatever you want,” she shrugged and tugged her board from the sand before dropping it flat on the beach and then moving behind Clarke. “Permission to touch you?”

 

“Granted,” Clarke murmured, sighing as Lexa’s hands clutched at her hips and lifted her onto the board. “Fuck, granted times a hundred.”

 

“Now, I can usually do some pretty epic moves when I surf with my friend Indra, but given your plaster cast imposition we’ll keep it simple.”

 

“Simple is good,” Clarke’s breath was stuck in her throat. Every part of her that was even in proximity to Lexa, let alone touching, was zinging, like her cells were more than alive, like they were vibrating. Lexa’s hands withdrew.

 

“Close your eyes, and pretend, because I’m not going to be responsible for fucking up that leg and extending your time off the water.”

 

“Keep talking romantic like that and I’ll be yours forever,” Clarke teased, looking over her shoulder and into green eyes, eyes so beautiful she ached inside, unable to explain or rationalise how this girl was making her feel. “Fuck, _can I be yours forever?_ ”

 

“We’ll see,” Lexa smiled brightly, and it was so beautiful, so wonderful Clarke attempted to be her smooth self and pull the girl into a kiss, to turn, slide a hand onto her waist and press her lips to those gorgeous, plump, kissable lips. Only her ankle was fucked up, and instead of spinning smoothly, she was caught off balance and fell into the sand with an oomph. Lexa dropped to the sand beside her, “you’re adorable! Is that how you broke your leg?”

 

“I was going for sexy and no,” Clarke shrugged, and struck a pose where she lay in a heap on the sand.

 

“Yeah, success at the sexy,” Lexa murmured, tucking a strand of fair hair behind her ear.

 

“Good!” Clarke grinned, pleased with herself, but was then lost in green eyes which were locked on hers, “please kiss me.”

 

“Isn’t a date a good idea first?”

 

“This isn’t a date?” Clarke pouted and Lexa laughed.

 

“Sure, this can be a date, but maybe dinner, a movie, sitting on a beach around a campfire…maybe all of those things then a kiss?”

 

“A kiss now is a really good idea,” Clarke reassured, hand finding Lexa’s jaw, her fucking epic jaw, and brushing over a perfect cheekbone.

 

“I agree,” Lexa murmured before leaning forward, her soft lips pressing into Clarke’s, her tongue tangling with hers, as Lexa kissed her so fucking thoroughly she thought she might come. Clarke wanted more, but when she tried to deepen the kiss Lexa was gone.

 

“Hmmm, come back,” she pouted.

 

“A date. What if I’m an asshole?” Lexa’s hand was sliding over her stomach and Clarke’s mind was chanting ‘ _lower, lower, lower.”_

“I’m an asshole.”

 

“Well, I’ll consider myself warned.”

 

“Hmmm, you should. All I wanna do is surf, or art. People say it’s annoying.”

 

“Sound’s awful,” Lexa was so close Clarke felt like she was on fire.

 

“I think I might wanna do _you_ more than either of those things.”

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” it was Lexa’s turn to swear.

 

“If I promise you dates will you kiss me again?”

 

“What if I don’t like you?”

 

“Lexa, you’re gonna love me,” Clarke sassed.

 

“What makes you so sure?”

 

“Why don’t you find out?” she winked and Lexa laughed before kissing her again.

 

“Now let me take you to dinner?”

 

“Later, later, more kissing,” Clarke pouted.

 

“Dinner, then so much more kissing.”

 

“More than kissing?” Clarke arched an eyebrow and was rewarded with another chuckle.

 

“I was not expecting you!”

 

“Hmmm, well you shouldn’t be hanging about looking so sexy and in command and all that jazz – it attracts all types.”

 

“You’ll do…”

 

“Who’s your friend Lexa?” the cool voice barely registered.

 

“This is Clarke,” Lexa rolled off of her, and stared at her friend from on the ocean. “Anya, Clarke, Clarke, Anya.”

 

“You coming with me or taking this girl somewhere nice?”

 

“Are you really asking that?”

 

“See you tomorrow, Lexa,” Anya laughed and strode off down the beach.

 

“Come on Clarke,” Lexa murmured, standing, and holding out a hand. “I wanna hear the truth about how you broke that ankle.”

 

“You’ll need to get me tipsy if you want a demonstration,” Clarke fluttered her eyelashes as Lexa pulled her to her feet, and retrieved her crutches.

 

“I cannot wait,” Lexa knotted her hand in Clarke’s hair and pulled her in for a kiss. Clarke dropped her crutches and threw her body against Lexa’s strong, lean one, and Lexa laughed into the kiss. “Is it wrong that I adore you already?”

 

“Nope!”


End file.
